Avery is a normal teenager, except for Venice. Venice is Avery’s imaginary friend or so she thinks. When the two begin to fight. Avery starts her investigation, to figure out what Venice really is. She encounters a wise old exorcist, and an albino psychic who assist her, with attempting to remove Venice. Which comes too late as Venice goes on a murdering rampage using Avery’s body. Does Avery survive the Wrath of Venice?

Avery closed her laptop. It was getting hot from being overworked. She laid back and immersed herself in the soft covers. She dreamed again that night.
She was six years old. Her father had left fresh bruises all over her body. Avery was in her room crying. Her siblings had been lucky not to be sick that day. Avery wiped the tears off her face with her blanket. She knew better. She knew she should have kept out of his way. Avery was hungry and wanted something to eat. This was why she woke him up. Her dad was upset and still drunk from the whiskey.
“Are you okay?” she heard a voice say behind her. Avery looked over to see Venice. The Asian girl walked over to Avery and started to stroke her back. Her touch was cold as usual. This girl wouldn’t leave Avery alone.
“No…” Avery said, suppressing tears.
“It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay,” Venice whis- pered.
“How do you know? You aren’t even real.” Avery could feel the excruciating pain in her back. The fever came back. She had managed to make this girl angry once again.
“I am real!” Venice screamed at the top of her lungs. Avery could feel Venice’s cold hands grasp her around the throat.
“Please… Let go…” Avery managed to say. Venice con- tinued to stifle her windpipe.
“Say I am real! Say you will be my friend.”
“Alright… I will be your friend.” Avery felt Venice’s grasp weaken.
Avery looked up to see Venice staring at her. She looked malevolent. She flashed Avery an evil smile.
“Why do you want me to be your friend so bad Venice?
“Why?” Avery asked.
“You are all I have. I don’t have anyone else to talk to,” Venice replied. She didn’t seem as malevolent now.
“I am really all you have?” Avery asked.
“Yes, I have no one else to talk to…” For the first time Venice looked vulnerable and harmless.
“So, friends?” Venice asked extending her hand to Avery. She shook Venice’s cold hand and made her a promise to be friends forever.
Avery woke up from the dream. It was a memory she had suppressed some time ago. She had forgotten all about their deal. Avery was beginning to wonder why Venice had stuck around all these years. If she was truly an imaginary friend, wouldn’t she have left years ago? Avery was beginning to think Venice was something else. Something more than just a fig- ment of her imagination.
“Hey there!” a voice interrupted her thoughts. Avery glanced up to see Venice. She was dressed in a provocative tight dark blue dress. It had lacy sleeves. The dress made every angle on her body pop. This time she materialized with heavy blue eye shadow. On her feet were suede blue booties.
“Wow…” Venice smiled.
“I know, don’t you love this dress and my hair.” Venice’ hair was curly and tied up in loose ponytail which she pulled forward.
“You look great!” “Yes, I know.”
“I have a question Venice.” Avery pushed her covers off and turned on the fan.
“Go ahead and ask me.” Venice replied. She snapped her fingers and a long white cigarette appeared. She took a deep breath and inhaled the cigarette.
“Why are you still here?” Venice did her best not to look startled.
“I am here because I am part of you.”
“What do you mean?” Avery asked. The room was starting to feel chilly. Avery started to feel the old Venice emerging again.
“I am your sister.” Avery coughed.
“What do you mean my sister?” Venice’s face began to dis- tort.
“I mean your sister. We are twins.” Avery began getting a splitting headache.
“Twins? Twins? What do you mean twins?” Her headache did not subside. In fact it grew worse. The room was a blur.. “Tell me Venice, tell me what you really are?”
“I just told you. Accept it. You are part of me and I am part of you.” Avery started to feel dizzy.

About the Author

Mary Sage Nguyen is the youngest daughter of Vietnamese and Chinese immigrants. Vietnamese was the language spoken at home, so the only way she was able to learn English was through the public school system. Even though English was not spoken at home, Mary became an avid reader as a young child and always dreamed of being a writer someday.